


The Taste of Freedom

by orphan_account



Series: Ereri Week 2015 [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Body Appreciation, Ereri Week, Light Angst, M/M, Masturbation, Pining, body shame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-01
Updated: 2015-06-01
Packaged: 2018-04-02 06:44:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4050160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Day 1: Pining || Eren was positive that Levi would taste like freedom.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Taste of Freedom

Eren sat on the ground in the courtyard, watching the soldiers going through their morning stretches. One of the side effects of Eren’s healing abilities was that stretching before training was a waste of time, and so Eren would watch, his duty to make sure that no one’s form was off or that anyone was injured. It was also Eren’s favourite time of the day, since he had every excuse to shamelessly watch Levi’s limber body move through pose after pose.

He knew that he was attracted to the man. Eren has been fascinated with Levi for years at this point, and it was an inevitable turn of events. As his body matured, his affections toward Levi had as well. But Eren didn’t have many chances to sit and admire Humanity’s Strongest soldier, except during this brief time every morning. This was why Eren made sure that not a second was wasted, and each memory cherished.

“Connie, you’re over-extending,” Eren called out, noticing the boy was overbalancing. “You’ll lose your balance that way.” He met Levi’s eyes as he turned his attention from his friend, and the approval there had Eren’s cheeks warming.

It was over too soon, and Eren’s day was spent flying around the open space, practicing maneuvers under Levi’s strict commands. He had seen Levi’s former squad perform many of the moves they were being taught, and so Eren had first-hand experience on how effective they were. His single-minded focus on the task had time passing by in the blink of an eye, and much too soon the sun was setting, dinner was served, eaten, and cleaned up, and Levi guided Eren back to his cell below the surface.

“You’re on laundry duty tomorrow,” Levi said, holding the door open as Eren stepped in. “Are you able to do it on your own, or should I pull one of Hanji’s squad members to give you a hand?”

“What are we going over in tomorrow’s training?” Eren asked back.  If he was going to miss learning an important skill, he wanted to get the laundry done as soon as possible.

“Tomorrow’s on the ground. Formation and flares. Things you already know.”

Eren nodded, and scratched his neck.

“I know how to do the laundry,” Eren said, not wanting to add _‘from Petra,_ ’ as it was still too painful for him to think about. But the knowledge was on Levi’s expression, and Eren averted his gaze. “I can handle it on my own.”

“I don’t doubt that. Goodnight, Eren.” The cell door closed, the key turned, and the light left with Levi’s footsteps. Eren shimmied out of his clothes, not bothering to put sleeping clothes on as no one was going to see him in this state.

There was a single window in the dungeons, and it happened to be on the east-facing wall opposite of Eren’s cell. It would give him light come morning, and would wake him up perfectly as the sun had a tendency to shine directly in Eren’s eyes at ten minutes past six. Levi never retrieved him before seven, so by then Eren was fully dressed and ready for the day. Being dressed while down in the dungeons was a pointless endeavour, especially since Eren couldn’t see worth a damn after Levi left with the lantern.

Crawling into bed, Eren’s mind swirled, sinking as it often did in the darkness. He buried his face in the pillow, screaming out his frustration before going limp, blinking. His fascination with Levi only lasted so long in face of the realization that the rest of his life was going to be spent locked away like an animal. It didn’t matter that it was this cell. Once he was out of it, he was prisoner to Hanji’s whims and experiments, Commander Erwin’s schemes, Levi’s cleaning detail and training regime, the Survey Corp’s insignia on his cloak. Even if the Titans were killed, every last one, Eren would still be bound by his fate. Freedom was all Eren ever dreamed of, but it was a dream he had come to accept was not meant for him. Whether it was this cell, or duty, or his Titan body, Eren was a prisoner. His life was no longer his own, and with his newfound shifting abilities, he was destined to die. He fell asleep on that thought, his dreams filled with blood and heat.

Mornings were better than nights. Morning brought light, and Eren woke with the glare of the sun in his eyes. He rolled onto his back, bending his knees and stretching his arms above his head, looking at his unblemished hands thoughtfully. His skin was so soft, so smooth, callouses unable to form no matter how much he handled the 3DMG. He wondered what Levi’s hands looked like, the man who had earned such a prestigious title. Were they hardened from the handle, from handling the buckles and straps of their gear? From caring for the horses, from cleaning their headquarters weekly? Would Levi’s hands show the proof of his existence? All Eren saw when he looked at his own hands were lies and deceit, a fake innocence.

It felt wrong, even as he brought his hand to his chest, running his hand down his body until it found his penis, already hard and waiting for attention as it did every time he thought of Levi in the early morning hours. As he stroked himself slowly, feeling the slide of smooth skin against skin, he wondered how it would feel if he had the hard, rough callouses from training. From killing Titans, from killing for humanity. From being Humanity’s Strongest, from being Levi. He couldn’t fool himself enough to imagine it was really Levi, the touch too delicate, but he instead imagined being able to feel Levi’s calloused hands, feeling the skin where Levi’s straps covered his body, to press his own body against his, and just feel him.

More than anything, Eren wanted to taste him. Wanted to kiss the man. Call it a foolish, childish fantasy, but that was Eren’s favourite daydream. Of leaning down, pressing his lips to Levi’s and deepening it, sweeping his tongue inside of Levi’s mouth to see what it felt like. Eren was positive that Levi would taste like freedom. As he reached his orgasm, he sighed in disappointment. It would never happen. Not with the way his life was bound to end up.

When Levi came down to let him out at seven, Eren was dressed, his laundry bundled and ready to be taken to wash. All evidence of his early morning activities was gone, locked away in the recesses of his mind until tomorrow morning, when he would once again imagine a taste of freedom. A taste he would never get to have.


End file.
